


You Know I'm Not Good

by golgothas_Terror



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), TFTBL - Fandom, Tales From The Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Badass Rhys, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Violence, Rated M for later Chapters, rhack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-02-29 22:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18787831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golgothas_Terror/pseuds/golgothas_Terror
Summary: Rhys is an assassin, hired by Maliwan to infiltrate Helios and take down one of the world's most hated figureheads: Handsome Jack himself. Premonitions aside, someone as trained and disciplined as Rhys could not afford failure - especially when dealing with a known killer and a 2 billion unit price over his head. When he finds himself tangled in a web of his own lies, he's forced to make a choice between killing one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy or being hunted by his employer for the rest of his life (however long that may be).If there's one thing that Rhys has in his favor, it's that things almost never go the way he expects them to...





	1. PR0L0GU3

**Author's Note:**

> i've literally read 99% of the rhack fanfictions on this website so I figured I might as well try my hand at one and see how that works out :)) if all goes to plan you can expect a lot more updates where this came from

Rhys peered at the Maliwan representative before him with mock interest, his hetero-chromatic eyes duly noting the way that the man’s black toupee tried (and failed) to match the dark brown tone of his eyebrows, something akin to amusement playing out on his features.

It wasn’t that he was disinterested in the situation, but he’d undoubtedly been through the same little charade more times than he could count on any of his fingers - real or mechanical. The clientele of interest would often ask him questions like “How many people have you killed?”, “How long does it usually take for you to eliminate a target?”, or “Have you ever had any work related accidents?”. The answers almost never varied, Rhys having maintained an immaculate record in the mere five years he’d been working as an assassin for hire. His company would never dare send an amateur to a consumer as financially well endowed as Maliwan, but he couldn’t help but respect the diligence of their contractor. Two billion units was an incredibly large sum of money for an up and coming gun manufacturer to risk losing, and Rhys had no intention of challenging the metaphorical ‘hand that feeds’.

“...The CEO of Maliwan himself selected you to handle this task with full belief that you can manage such a thing, but I must warn you that the person of interest is probably more _high profile_ than your usual victims.”

Rhys perked up, his arms crossing over his chest confidently as he responded to what he suspected was a blatant attempt at deterrence. “I assure you, Mr…?”

“Thompson.” The man supplied hesitantly.

He smirked and continued, “I assure you, _Mr. Thompson_ , that I can handle whoever it is that you have in mind. If you look at my file there you’ll see that I’ve dispatched presidents, celebrities, soldiers- you name it. I’m sure I can handle whoever it is you’ve selected for me today.”

Where he expected to find reassurance, the man instead met Rhys with a nervous shuffle of his metal chair, it’s legs screeching slightly from their contact on the white tiled flooring beneath them. He could feel his right eye twitch at the noise irritably, but he chose to disregard it and try to focus on the matter at hand. Rhys wasn’t exactly known to be the most patient man, but he understood that there was a time and a place for everything. If dealing with incompetence meant that he could leave sooner, the delicate manila folder with all of his target’s data in tow, then he would gladly grit his teeth and humor Mr. Thompson’s notable distress.

“I think you should see the file before you pledge to anything,” he spoke, carefully undoing the clasps of his leather satchel and retrieving its contents within seconds. Rhys nearly let out an audible sigh of relief when it was finally handed to him, sparing no second thought before sliding the few pieces of laminated paper out so that he could read them clearly.

 

 **MALIWAN** **™** **ENTERPRISES**

**FILE #5371981**

**NAME:** Handsome Jack

 **GENDER:** M

 **AGE:** 32

 

 **LOCATION:** Helios

 

 **OCCUPATION(S):** Vault Hunter (former), Chief Executive Officer of Hyperion, and shareholder of 75% of all profits and manufacturing regarding Eridium or Eridium mines.

 

 **RELATIONS:** NONE FOUND

 

 **STRENGTHS:** Clever, proficient with gun-fighting, skilled in hand to hand, wealthy, tech-savvy, and intimidating.

 

 **WEAKNESSES:** NONE FOUND

 

Out of all of the people he’d expected Maliwan to have a hit out on, Handsome Jack was admittedly not who Rhys predicted they would go after first and foremost. Sure, it was somewhat commendable that they would - quite literally - shoot for the quickest solution and go after their problem at its source, but it would unfortunately make his task a much more difficult affair. It was one thing to go after the richest man in their subsystem, potentially earning a considerable fortune and unlocking secrets pertaining to Hyperion’s base of operations. It was a different thing entirely to hire an assassin to infiltrate and take down one of the most notoriously dangerous men in the galaxy.

He pondered his options - the few that he actually had - as he stared at the small photograph they’d sloppily paperclipped to Handsome Jack’s file. If he managed to succeed, as unlikely as it was, he would acquire fifty percent of the profits and pretty much be set for the rest of his life, maybe even so much that he could spend the remainder of his days drinking martinis at one of the luxurious resorts of Aquator. If he failed, death was  pretty much the only thing left in his horizon. Jack would undoubtedly airlock Rhys into the oxygen-less void of space if he was caught, and if not his employer would soon send the rest of the team to terminate him for his knowledge of the organization. As he saw it, there was really only one logical action to extract.

Regaining his posture, Rhys began to carefully slip the documents back into place, his ECHO eye screenshotting anything of value to avoid the associated risks that came with indulging in a paper trail. He then retracted back into the guise of a self-assured business man as quickly as he’d dropped it, hoping to ease some of Mr. Thompson’s obvious doubts about his capabilities.

“It is certainly going to take some time to make the proper arrangements,” Rhys reluctantly admitted, “But I will see to it that the job gets done.”

Mr. Thompson visibly ascended from his momentous slouching, as if he was utterly surprised that someone actually had the nerve to accept the contract. “This is great news! I will inform our CEO immediately -”

Rhys stood up and zipped the loose black coat he’d been wearing, eagerly anticipating his freedom from the building as well as the many preparations it would take to merely gain access to Helios. He’d barely noticed that the representative was still blabbering until he felt an uncomfortably hasty tug on the metal plating of his robotic arm, an action that immediately caused him to flinch and snatch it back..

Not seeing the error of his ways, Mr. Thompson continued to address him excitedly, even throwing in a wink. “Now this isn’t exactly customary, but I was asked to give you the card for our intelligence agency. If you happen to dig up anything that could be of use to us along the way, we will certainly give you a bonus.”

He carefully grasped the fancy orange and black business card, the reflective font of MALIWAN glaring brightly from what he assumed was a mixture of the overhead lights and the faint sparkly glaze on the letters. _Figures,_ he thought to himself _, of course Maliwan would be one gun manufacturer with the nerve to hand out a glittery business card._ Just below the logo, in a small, informative font, he could barely make out the head officer’s number, as well as the pin he would need if he wanted to video chat said person over the ECHO net. It struck him as demanding and altogether unnecessary, but Rhys chose to slip it into his pocket and appease the man rather than act on instinct and flick it back at his tasteless toupee. People never seemed to understand that he was a _hit man,_ not a _spy,_ but he figured he could just dispose of it as soon as he was out of range of the oddly persistent representative.

“Nice chatting with you,” He lied, opening the heavy soundproof door so that he could make his way off of the premises. “See to it that my manager gets the money ASAP, m’kay?”

After his words were left to hang casually in the air, he disappeared down the narrow hallway that loomed before him, flicking the business card into the first trashcan he came into contact with before he could forget about it.

 _Just think_ , Rhys reminded himself _, One more job and you’ll be free from tools like that forever._

  
  



	2. 4 CH4NC3 3NC0UNT3R

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer than I expected considering the fact that I've been visiting family, but I hope you like it regardless :)

 

 

Within a few admittedly taxing weeks, Rhys soon realized that becoming a full time employee of Hyperion would not be something as easy as handing in an application and hitching a ride with a stranger to the loading dock. Not that his application wasn’t exemplary - he’d worked diligently with someone who owed him a number of favors in order to compile a list of attractive references, as well as a collection of blue collar schools to back up some of his more  _ desirable _ skills. It wasn’t as if the paper was a complete lie anyways. In order to stay in his somewhat demanding line of business, Rhys had to pick up on a number of talents like programming, coding, and robotics maintenance. He was also fairly experienced with both hacking and encryption, but he acknowledged that adding something like that to his resume would be exceedingly suspicious. Unfortunately, the highest available job in his department was still a bit below his skillset. He should have expected that a place as tightly wound as Helios would not be bursting at the seams with job opportunities, but it was disappointing that he would probably have to work twice as hard just to get an audience with Handsome Jack. 

It only took him a couple of days to receive a response from Hyperion’s contractor via email, accompanied by a rather alluring list of benefits that he would receive once he confirmed his acceptance of the job. He would be given housing equivalent to his status, medical insurance, a week of vacation days annually, dental, and even retirement - not that he had any intent of getting to that milestone. Rhys was nearly beguiled by at the prospect of an agreeable workplace environment, until he turned over the page and proceeded to skim five whole paragraphs about how Hyperion is not accountable for any injuries or accidents that take place on Helios. They even went as far as including dismemberment in the list of potential threats, but he figured it was for the sake of avoiding legal misunderstandings rather than warning future staff members. Either way, he knew what it was like to lose an appendage on a rather first name basis and had no intent to suffer the loss of yet another. 

Once he accepted the position and chose from a rather peculiar selection of hyperion issued coats and vests (as mandated by the uniform and dress policy), Rhys had only a few things left to pack before he could leave for an alarmingly unidentifiable amount of time. He tried not to go overboard with his luggage, preparing for the off chance that he would need to make a quick exit out of any dicey situations. There were some things that were required - his cybernetic repair kit, the biggest tube of hair gel that he could get his hands on (pure necessity), and a set of gloves that would hide his robotic hand where his sleeve cut off. 

For quite some time he debated whether or not he should try to hide something so conspicuous from the people of Helios, but he ultimately decided that it was too dangerous and would likely draw many questions of which he had no intentions to answer. Rhys eventually came to the conclusion that he would much rather be labeled as the ‘weird new germaphobe guy’ over the ‘dangerous freak with a high tech mechanical arm’. However, he wasn’t vacuous enough not to acknowledge that it probably wouldn’t be something he could conceal forever, that much was clear, but he at least hoped to keep it on the down low until he was more comfortable in such a new and unpredictable environment. 

Rhys made it to the Fast Travel Station a quarter before eight in the morning, his trademark skag skin boots kicking up a thin layer of dirt as he attempted to gain official access to the network. According to the paperwork he’d been given, all he would have to do is connect it to the hotspot that was implemented into his and scan the ID number on his Hyperion registration form. Within seconds the screen shifted to display all of the potential travel destinations, nearly catching him off guard with the variety it offered. Apparently Hyperion employees had access to a variety of planets with their pass, including Eden-5 and Promethea. He assumed it had something to do with having access to their families, business trips, or just vacation in general, but Rhys was still surprised that someone as tyrannous as Jack offered even those few luxuries to his workers. 

It took a few moments for him to collect himself enough that he could select one of the apartment destinations on Helios, for no other reason than the nerves that curled restlessly in the pit of his gut. Not that Rhys was scared or anything - he would never admit to such a presumptuous accusation - it was just that he’d used one of the stations before and spent nearly an hour after it kneeling over a toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach. Squaring his shoulders and taking a nervous gulp, Rhys tapped the label with his flesh hand, immediately closing his eyes and bracing himself for the inevitable impact ahead of him. 

From the inky depths of his eyelids, all the brunette could make out was the aggressive flash of a brilliant celeste blue light and a tingling sensation that felt vaguely like he was being sucked through a human vacuum cleaner. Wind whipped the hair around his ears for only the briefest of seconds, stopping immediately when he regained his sense of gravity once more. The impact was comparable to bumping into a glass wall, minus the pain, causing Rhy to struggle to regain control of his motor functions just so he could open his eyes. 

The hall that hosted his subsection of apartments, station 6C, was just barely emblazoned by the typical Hyperion combination of yellow and blue overhead lights, spaciously distanced enough to enhance the illusion that it was a never ending night, as it technically always was in outer space anyways. It appeared to be almost entirely vacated, with the exception of a bot that Rhys couldn’t help but watch with pity, its metal arms languidly sweeping the few specks of dirt that people tracked to their homes onto the metal tray that it was apparently stocked with. He didn’t find it all that bizarre for Helios to be equipped with robot janitors, but highly doubted it was a necessary investment. How much dirt could really be transferred around in an isolated space station? 

Rhys went out of his way to avoid the machine for fear that it might actually attempt to strike conversation with him, scanning the placard on each door as he briskly sought out his lodging. Upon sight of the number ‘74’, he whipped out his badge and slid it through the small key card slot by the door handle. Immediately following a nearly inaudible pinging noise, the entrance caved in to display the inner contents of his apartment. 

Earlier that morning, Rhys had emailed the contractor and reported that his estimated time of arrival to the office would be around nine, meaning that he would only have approximately forty five minutes left to unpack the few personal items that he had the highest risk of needing. He didn’t have much time to examine what his new living space had to offer, but he figured there would be plenty of opportunities to experience it in the upcoming days of his employment. Letting out a sigh as he brushed the stray strands of hair that had fallen into his face, Rhys began to prepare for the day ahead of him. 

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

Upon entering the ‘subsector’ of Helios designated for the Department of Research and Development - the term was relatively understated considering it’s massive size - Rhys could only speculate what exactly he would be getting himself into as the newly appointed Assistant Robotics Research Specialist. The job description offered minimal information, but he’d managed to gain some comprehension of the agenda of his particular area of R & D through a small amount of digging. As he interpreted it, he would be working as the right hand of a scientist named Dr. Veronica Madronin, the woman who spearheaded any projects concerning the engineering of modern loader bot designs. She was rumored to be an incredibly demanding supervisor, often requiring the employees of her unit to work overtime both testing and documenting all of the events that transpired within her designated enterprise. He also read on her file that she was selected to personally correspond with Handsome Jack concerning progress updates or newly acquired blueprints, which he assumed might come in handy. 

Prior to his arrival, Rhys had mentally prepared himself to be scrutinized by his peers, most of them probably speculating on what prompted an outsider to receive the promotion many of them had spent months grinding for. He wouldn’t have even been a little bit surprised if Dr. Madronin sent him straight to the testing rooms, forcing him to gather figures on their overall progress while rockets shot around and elemental explosions cluttered noisily. However, he genuinely had not anticipated the kind of workload that she assigned to him upon entering her studio. 

Inside one of the many sparsely decorated offices, a middle aged blonde lady leaned against the corner of her desk, not even glancing up from her wooden clipboard when the sound of the door closing reverberated somewhat noisily on impact. He briefly considered using his Echo eye to scan the room in hopes that it would allude to how she should be approached, but it didn’t take a technologically advanced eye to deduce the secrets of a fake potted plant or a half emptied cup of coffee. There were no personal touches nor decorations, excluding the company issued calendar that had been tacked crookedly on the wall. When he squinted at the lettering, he found that it was still on January of the past year. 

“My name is Rhys,” he cleared his throat, extending his non mechanical hand to her in greeting, “I’m the new Assistant RR Specialist.”

She continued to stare at the chunk of papers, blatantly ignoring his offer for what he thought was a pretty solid handshake. If she hadn’t pursed her lips once he finished speaking, the brunette probably would have just assumed that she hadn’t heard his introduction at all.

It wasn’t until he shoved his hand back in his pocket that she finally decided to receive him, only momentarily glancing in his direction. “I am Dr. Madronin. Call me anything else and I will see to it that you’re thrown out of a moonshot cannon.”

She then gestured to the small oak desk across the room from her own, and Rhys couldn’t help but widen his eyes at the stupendous amount of papers that balanced atop one of it’s corners. “I have compiled an assortment of tasks that I need you to complete by the end of this week. Understood?” 

His gut immediately plummeted at her words, but he avoided reacting in any way that could be interpreted as disrespectful. 

“I will have everything to you by Friday,” he begrudgingly muttered in response, “...Dr. Madronin.”

It wasn’t that Rhys was incapable of managing the rather sizable stack of paperwork. In fact, before he’d been hired at his more stimulating job, he’d been known to bounce between employment that offered the same variety of monotonous responsibilities. The conflict arose, however,  when he came to the conclusion that it was not, in fact, his usual bread and butter such as: filing, shredding, or emailing useless information to the provided parties. Instead, Dr. Madronin’s ‘tasks’ consisted of a collection of unsatisfactory projects including but not limited to compiling charts, making graphs, setting up detailed powerpoints for the executives to use in their business meetings, writing persuasive essays in favor of a wider budget, and even faxing blueprints to the heads of each individual segment of R&D. It was a monumental amount of work, and he found it entirely preposterous that she expected him to have all of it done over the course of a few days while she did nothing but stare at the same ambiguous papers she seemed so fascinated with. Rhys had a feeling that he would come to abhor every second he would spend with her in their shared office. 

“Oh and one more thing, Ryan -” 

He gritted his teeth and interjected, “It’s Rhys.” 

“ - same difference. Anyway, an inspector is coming to visit after lunch. I’d suggest that you find something to do with a good portion of those documents so that they don’t get any  _ ideas _ about your work ethic.”

He could feel his eye twitch as he mentally burned another enormous hole through the stack. Apparently Dr. Madronin had no intent of making his stay an easy one. 

Once Rhys managed to calm down - an effort that took nearly twenty valuable minutes of his time - he pretty much forced himself to get well acquainted with the diverse programs Hyperion had to offer. He spent the first half of the day analyzing the subject matter so that he could individually select and sort the information based off of it’s topic, then following it up by narrowing each stack down even further based off of the significance of the project. He was immensely relieved that his shoddy wooden desk had been equipped with a set of filing cabinets, each drawer utilized to organize the different kinds of assignments and, if he was being completely honest, hide the incomplete work from whoever would be poking around the office later. Initially, he couldn’t help but think that everything he was doing was going to be pointless by the end of the week. Nonetheless, if there was one thing that he learned in school, it was that a goal is a lot easier to complete once you know all the facts. 

He found himself immersed in the powerpoint that he’d been working on, so much so that he almost missed when Dr. Madronin stepped out of her room, the now empty coffee cup she’d been sipping on loudly for the last hour in tow. Officially safe from her prying eyes, he quickly pulled out his cybernetic arm to check the time and scan through any important emails that had managed to accumulate since he got settled in. Luckily Hyperion was competent enough to let him choose a new address, preventing unnecessary build up in his personal account, where he still occasionally got important message from contacts outside of Helios.

The small holographic timestamp read that it was almost twelve thirty, just barely late enough in the day that he could take his lunch break in Hyperion’s less than modest cafeteria. Carefully returning his robotic arm to the glove it had been concealed in for hours prior, Rhys decided that it was worth it to make a self indulgent trip in search of something edible. After everything that he’d already had to deal with in the span of one morning, he figured he at least deserved a break and a bag of chips, maybe even a protein bar if he could find any (his expectations were exceedingly low - Hyperion or not, jobs almost never had pleasant places to eat at).

Taking the elevator down proved to be a feat all in itself, Rhys having been forced to cram in between a sweaty lady that wouldn’t stop staring at his ECHO eye and a rather portly man who, strangely enough, smelled exactly like roast beef. Overall, the two minute ride did absolutely nothing to increase his rapidly plummeting appetite, causing him to make a mental note to search the premises for a set of stairs as soon as he got a chance. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to endure Helios if he was stuffed in a cramped elevator every time there was a lunch rush.

When the two electronic doors finally fizzed open, he nearly ran to escape the crowd, nudging many of the men and woman who seemed to be just as eager as him in hopes of getting a fresh breath of air. After he finally found a spot that was less populated, he let out a sigh of relief and began to admire the space before him. Naturally Hyperion spared no expense on any of its illustrious designs, the cafeteria appearing somewhat like a statement piece on its own.

The massive metal ceiling gave way to a wall of windows, their clear panes displaying the vastness of space and causing the thousands of stars to resemble small specs of glitter in the distance. When compared to the immense sheet of glass, Rhys felt almost insignificant, like he could walk right up to it and then suddenly find himself drifting off for the rest of eternity - not that he had any reason to actually let that concern him. Upon further inspection, with the help of his ECHO eye, he discovered it to be some kind of foreign metal known as Speculorium (‘as strong as titanium and as transparent as a monocle!’). It’s origin was completely unrecognizable, but he figured Hyperion’s mining business had its claws in just about every planet in their solar system. He couldn’t help but begrudgingly admit that they were probably one of the only gun manufacturers that could incorporate defense into the aesthetic of their home base. 

Once he felt that his scanning was getting a little too obvious, he spared a glance in the direction that most of the workers appeared to be heading in. It was admittedly less glorious than some of the surrounding sights, but even the food stations looked to be a pleasant mix of decoration and purpose, each one containing charming logos that displayed the options as well as the rank of income it was intended for. He could tell that the majority of the employees were classified from F-D - alphabetized similarly to the apartments - which meant that they probably encompassed jobs in the range of janitorial to departmental crews. As he walked to the meal area for section C, he gave himself a mental pat on the back for the success of his resume. Even though he was still a middle man, he was relieved to not have to wait in an obnoxiously crowded line. 

Choosing not to go over the top, Rhys quickly selected an unostentatious salad, swiping his yellow Hyperion card so that the meal could be taken out of his company credit. Once he was sure that there was no problem with his registration, he made his way towards the sleek white lunch tables, opting to sit at somewhat empty and secluded table instead of trying his hand at socialization. 

It didn’t take very long for him to finish his meal and he couldn’t help but realize how much he used his cybernetic arm just for the sake of entertainment. Without being able to access it, he found himself growing bored much faster than he usually did, to the point that it was almost unbearable. Within minutes Rhys was so exasperated that he decided to just go ahead and look for a garbage can so he could head back to work.

The bin was only a few feet away, blocked by a single table and its two inhabitants - both of which appearing to be deep into some kind of gossip session. He paid minimal attention to either of them as he dumped his salad, right up to the point that he overheard an intriguing bit of information. 

“Did you hear about what happened to James the other day?” The smaller one asked, pushing up the thick black frames of his glasses as if he was preparing to drop a considerably juicy secret.

The woman across from him furrowed her brows slightly at the mention of the name, her amber eyes regarding him curiously. “James? As in RR James? Or do you mean the blonde one?”

“RR James,” He clarified quickly.

“What, did he finally get a promotion or something? I hear Dr. Madronin has been making him pretty miserable lately…”

Rhys grew exceptionally attentive at the mention of his boss, inching away from the garbage so he could listen without looking like a creepy guy with a staring problem.

The male huffed at her words, averting his eyes as if he was scared to be the bearer of bad news. “She won’t be doing any of that anymore…”

“What?!” The mocha skinned woman gasped. “What happened to him?”

“Well apparently he got demoted to janitorial-”

Rhys felt like it was a pretty good moment to say something, and he quickly slid into the seat next to the guy who was sharing information in a way that was almost definitely obtrusive. When the pair met his gaze with surprise, he did his best to fill them in, despite how sudden and strange that his movement was.

“Sorry about that. My name is Rhys, I’m the  _ new _ RR Specialist.” He gave them the friendliest smile he could manage without crossing any lines or coming off too uppity. “I heard you saying something about the guy before me becoming a janitor and I just really wanna know how  _ not _ to do that.”

The guy took to him almost instantly, holding out his hand and offering it for Rhys to shake. “I’m Vaughn and that’s my friend Yvette.”

The woman - Yvette - waved to him slowly, her intimidating eyes revealing little of her opinion of him. He soon found himself averting his gaze back to the friendlier of the two and grasping his outstretched palm.  _ Finally someone around here who values a good handshake. _

“Anyway,” Vaughn continued his story, “According to Heather he got demoted when Dr. Madronin made him deliver some questionable statistics to Handsome Jack. I’m not entirely sure what went down, but I guess the reports didn’t make him too happy.” 

Rhys wasn’t too surprised that Handsome Jack would do something of that caliber, considering his reputation, but the news still made an unsettling feeling encompass the pit of his stomach. If that James person got dropped from C to F just because he made a disappointing delivery, he would hate to know what kind of stuff would really set the intimidating man off. Thankfully Yvette and Vaughn seemed to share his same unspoken fears, the table becoming silenced as the concerning information began to sink in. 

“I don’t know if I should be saying this or not, but I really don’t wanna have to meet him anytime soon.” 

Yvette nodded sympathetically as Vaughn let out a humored chuckle, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

“What’s unfortunate?” Rhys inquired perplexedly, not entirely comprehending the joke that the shorter guy was trying to make. 

Vaughn’s eyebrow immediately shot up. “Wait, you don’t know?”

Rhys could only shake his head, causing Yvette and Vaughn to make uneasy eye contact across from each other. They seemed to be having some kind of internal debate, but it only took a couple seconds before Yvette gave in with a huff. 

“Well, I guess you didn’t get the memo, but it’s inspection week.” She said it casually, as if the three of them were just having a complacent discussion about the weather. “Usually Jack sends his crew but I hear that he’s doing it himself this time. Something about ‘raising company morale’ - whatever that means.”

“He’s probably just looking for more ways to scare people. I think it’s probably been at least a week since he’s killed any of his employees.” 

While Vaughn spoke, Rhys proceeded to let some of his mental panic slip out. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.  _ Shit. _ ”

“It’s fine, dude.” Vaughn assured him. “As long as you don’t make any eye contact or try to talk to him, I’m sure he won’t even notice that you’re there.”

While his calming words did somewhat manage to ease Rhys’ conscious, he had a feeling neither of them really understood the gravity of the situation, Yvette even less so than Vaughn. Not only was he hiding mounds of unfinished paperwork, but Dr. Madronin had also informed him that the inspection would be taking place sometime after lunch. If he didn’t get back before his break ended to prepare himself, he had a feeling that the odds of him becoming the next dead employee were extremely elevated. 

“I don’t think you guys get it.” He threw his arms in the air somewhat dramatically as a way to somewhat stress the point he was making. “R&D has inspection after lunch. I don’t want to get airlocked on my first day!”

Yvette dusted off the collar of her sandstone pigmented button up, smiling slightly at his dramatics as she did so. “He’s only done that like three times so I’m sure you don’t have anything to be afraid of. If someone really annoys him too much he either kills or humiliates them.” 

“Yeah, and at least the killing is fast. One time he projected a guy who he’d scared into peeing his pants onto every screen in Helios. The poor guy was even crying.”

Rhys looked a little disgruntled, not even a tiny bit reassured by the stories that they were telling him. He’d already learned about a few of his exploits from the file Maliwan gave him - especially the one about him strangling his boss to death and then robbing him of his title - but there was still a certain aura of mysteriousness associated with such a commanding presence. Rhys felt entitled to know  _ why  _ he did the things that he did, not who he did them to or what exactly his actions were. He figured that the only way to really understand how Handsome Jack ticked was to tackle some of the skeletons in his closet, despite how difficult of a task that was going to be. If Rhys could just get his hands on some old ECHO logs or maybe access the file of his time before being promoted, he might finally have a lead on shortening the proximity between the two of them. He knew that it was a little far fetched, but he had to start somewhere. 

Yvette and Vaughn continued to swap stories about Jack’s tirades, and it was quickly making Rhys uneasy. He decided that he would be better off just returning to his office ahead of schedule so that he could catch an elevator before the rush picked back up.

“Well,” He interrupted them stiffly, “It was really nice meeting you two but I kinda need to get back to the office…”

Rhys stood up from the round stool he’d been sitting on, his human hand coming up to brush a few discarded strands back into the lump of gel that was his hair. Vaughn and Yvette both nodded in understanding, Vaughn even going as far as to give him a little salute. 

“Well you know where to find us for lunch or dinner. It’s always the same table.”

Yvette hummed in agreement, her right had coming to rest under her chin. “Good luck with Jack.”

“And remember no eye contact!” Vaughn reminded him, adjusting his glasses so that they sat higher on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t do anything weird and it’ll go by quickly.”

As he walked away, he couldn’t help but feel like he would be getting along pretty well with both of them in the future. At least, Rhys hoped so. If he didn’t establish connections at Helios he would not only be neglecting a serious business opportunity, but he would also have nothing but his paperwork to keep him company in the upcoming days. With that thought in mind, he began his ascent through the elevator, his foot tapping nervously to the classical tune playing through its speakers. He’d almost forgotten how slow that lifts could be, but he knew it had nothing on the time it would take for him to traverse numerous flights of stairs.

 Rhys got off with a ding, his skag-skin boots making small clicks on the flooring as he neared the office that he was already starting to compare to a prison. Before he subjected himself back to the discomfort that was Dr. Madronin, he soon started procrastinating and sipping water out of a paper cup, which came from one of the standard Hyperion issued water jugs.  _ Interesting _ , he thought.  _ They can have moonshot cannons and an entire space station but no automated water for the employees.  _ Either way, it tasted like an abhorrent mixture of rust and iron. 

 As he marched to his office, the brunette could hear the faintest sounds of a conversation drifting through the hallway. One voice was instantly recognized as his boss and coworker, the other unfamiliar and distinguishably masculine in tone. He had to suppress his astonishment that someone like Dr. Madronin would be socializing with anyone, considering her subliminal people skills, but he wouldn't have been surprised to find her scolding some cleaning bot because she couldn't see her reflection in the metal floors. 

Squaring his shoulders and realigning the singular loose strand of his hair, the heterochromatic man took a step back into his work space and was almost immediately caught off guard.   
Leaning up against Dr. Madronin’s desk stood an intimidating and familiar visage, his arms crossed as he regarded her with a look that was just a bit too speculative to come off as humorous. It was one thing to see him in the Hyperion Poster Catalog. It was a different thing entirely to be nearly face to face with the menacing mask and impeccable wisps of his brown hair. The universe itself even seemed to think that his appearance alone was not enough in terms of intimidation, and Rhys couldn’t help but notice the grip of two advanced twin pistols peeking out of the holsters on his hips. He couldn’t fight the uneasy feeling that swarmed in his gut and whispered that someone was definitely going to meet the unfriendly end of those in Jack’s exploration of the base. He really _really_ hoped that that person wasn’t going to be him. 

Luckily enough, the pair seemed to be immersed in a discussion about some kind of important data spreadsheet that balanced neatly atop Dr. Madronin’s clipboard. The distraction was enough to keep them busy while Rhys carefully crept over to his desk chair and attempted to resume his work quietly. The strategy he had adopted was to sit still and look competent, but the curiosity bubbling under the surface made that slightly problematic. If he could get any information - even a fragment - pertaining to his biggest target, he would likely spare himself hours trying to decode old encrypted files in search of valuable secrets. 

After about ten minutes of trying to finish another powerpoint while eavesdropping on a conversation that he couldn’t even comprehend, Rhys focused on the slight itch in his temple,  reminding him that the ECHO eye was a potential way to gather the data he sought, albeit highly risky. There was a chance, though pretty small, that Jack had some kind of software that protected his files from being scanned by any intruding eyes. If that were to be the case, Rhys would be at risk of severe damage to his tech and even potentially extreme pain due to some kind of installed precautionary defense. Deciding whether or not to use it was altogether a pretty significant choice, and one that he had to make quickly.  
He bit his lip as he looked between the two, beginning to think that his presence was probably being ignored rather than unnoticed. The brunette thought that his eyes had met Dr. Madronin’s during a particularly interesting joke that Jack had made, but he wasn’t confident enough about it to bet his life on it. Either way, he fortunately did not appear to be a topic of interest. Coming to the conclusion that he would most likely be inconspicuous, especially considering Handsome Jack’s back was facing him, Rhys steeled himself to activate the eye and investigate, only paying slight attention to the conversation. 

“You can’t seriously tell me everything is running smoothly around here. Especially since I booted that last guy, “Jack scoffed, crossing his arms impatiently. “What was his name?...Jim? Jared? I don’t know, its not that important anyways.”  
“His name was James.” Dr. Madronin supplied monotonously. It occured to Rhys that she was probably familiar to this kind of behavior from her boss, undoubtedly more so than himself.

He waved his hand dismissively, barely registering the blonde at all. “That’s not the point. I’m here to put the fear of God in my employees. How am I supposed to do that if they think they have  _ nothing to fear?” _

While he spoke, Jack fiddled with her name tag obnoxiously, refusing to pick it up once it fell off of her desk and crashed to the ground. Rhys resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  _ What a douche.  _

Appreciating the opening Jack’s external monologue provided in terms of distraction, Rhys tilted his computer monitor to cover most of his face and exhaled, his echo eye coming alive in the form of blue ring that shined brightly atop the screen of his computer. A slight electric rush shot through his spine, and he wasn’t sure if it stemmed from his neuro port or just the adrenaline rush of doing something particularly dangerous. Either way, it gave him the boost he needed to filter his eye over Jack and begin scanning. 

  
  


**ECHO EYE 2.1**

**Handsome Jack**

 

**Sup, Babe. It’s me. Your main man. The hero. The Jack of your dreams. Often imitated, never matched. It’s okay to be attracted to me. It’s fine. I get it. Honestly, I’d be more weirded out if you weren’t. See, the thing about me is [ERROR: stack overflow. Too much text, exceeding alloted buffer. Truncated message follows:]**

**\-- omega boner.**

 

Rhys blinked in confusion, the blaring red text of his ECHO eye almost virus-like in nature, and differing entirely from what he expected. 

“What…” He muttered cautiously, attempting to zoom in as frustration bubbled under the surface. The brunette had never seen anything like it in all of his years working, and despite his best efforts it didn’t appear to be changing anytime soon. 

He was so invested in his examination - one that had proven the entire affair to be a huge waste of time - that he completely missed the way Jack’s posture had stiffened, or how irrevocably silent the room had become. Unbeknownst to him, had a pin dropped in the space, all of its occupants would’ve noticed.

“Interesting.” Handsome Jack’s voice called darkly, ringing out in the silence space as though a dead weight had bashed it’s way through the ceiling. 

Rhys caught himself flinching at the tone, causing the disconnecting of his eye to follow in a both effortless and immediate fashion. He attempted to shuffle back into his former position, his face glued to his keyboard as his heartbeat pounded in his chest. The brunette had no idea whether or not he had been spotted yet, but he didn’t dare lift his face in fear of coming off as suspicious. 

Instead of turning to the noticeably quiet assistant in the corner, Jack instead regarded Dr. Madronin with an incongruous lift of his eyebrows. “Sugar, honestly _ I’m hurt _ . You didn’t tell me that you hired someone new in the place of Jim.” 

His voice soon transitioned to something ominous in nature, nothing like the tone it carried only moments before. He then began to turn slowly in Rhys’ direction. “...An intrusive one at that.”

The brunette looked up from his desktop, both of his eyes going marginally wide as Handsome Jack himself began marching towards him, his posture and face screaming nothing but animosity. In response, Rhys instantly backed his chair up as far as he could get it, trying to school his features into those of a totally calm and collected employee. Though, in all honesty, he was neither of those things

The flinch that happened when Jack slammed both hands onto his desk was enough to prove to them both that that wasn’t the case, which undoubtedly stroked the older man’s enormous ego.  As someone that had extensive experience with intimidation, Rhys found his reaction incredibly problematic. But then again, Jack was a prey much more advanced than his usual embezzler or diplomat. 

If there was one fortuitous thing about getting himself into an incredibly tricky situation, it was that Rhys was able to examine his target from a much closer proximity than he ever could have imagined he’d be getting on his first day at the job. Much like the brunette, Jack’s appearance displayed an unmatched pair of heterochromatic eyes, only on a seemingly natural scale, and in the shades of a honeyed green and ultramarine blue. However, the likeness in the duo did not stop at that one trait. The older man also shared his brown hair, a bit darker but styled just as perfectly into wavy strands that parted on the side. Atop his face sat a stark mask, somehow only adding to his uncanny charm. Upon further inspection, Rhys couldn’t help but notice that it was a couple shades more tinted than the skin it covered. He had never seen anything quite as detailed as the piece, but he didn’t dare second guess its purpose, especially once he spotted the silvery metallic clasps that framed his face. It was both bizarre and undeniably Handsome, but altogether much more surreal in person.

Instead of instantly resorting to violence, Handsome Jack asked a peculiarly simple question. 

“What’s your name, kid?” 

In a manner that might’ve seemed overly cautious, the assistant tilted his head and responded slowly. “It’s Rhys, sir.”

For a moment Jack looked surprised, but he quickly returned to his aggressive demeanor, sliding around the desk so that the younger boy was cornered in his chair. “Alright,  _ Reece.  _ Do you wanna tell me what an underpaid assistant like you is doing with an ECHO eye, scanning _ ME _ , or would you like to skip all that and just get to the good part?”


End file.
